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Chained to My Yandere CEO Husband / Chapter 3: Temptation and Truths
Chained to My Yandere CEO Husband

Chained to My Yandere CEO Husband

Author: Rachel Ortiz


Chapter 3: Temptation and Truths

"In the study drawer... there's medicine and a syringe. Go get it..." Nathaniel’s voice was ragged, his skin marked with scales he tried to hide.

I looked at him—trembling, lips bitten, sweat-soaked shirt clinging to abs that could make a saint sin—and something inside me snapped.

Three years of lonely nights, of pretending I didn’t care. Even though I was the one who wrote the rule: no feelings, just money, absolutely no physical contact. But I’m a villainess—morals are optional.

I cupped his face gently, whispering, "Nathaniel, just… be gentle, okay?"

"Don’t touch me… I’m dirty…" Nathaniel shuddered, clinging to the last scrap of control.

His words hit somewhere deep—right where all my old heartbreaks lived, the spot that ached every time I remembered Derek dumping me at that barbecue.

"But I want to…"

I let the bathrobe fall, wiped the blood from his lips with my thumb, and tiptoed up to kiss him.

Barrage:

[What's happening? The female supporting character is actually taking the initiative!]

[That face-pat—ahhh, so seductive! Sis, do you need a pet dog?]

[Love born from hate—chef’s kiss.]

[Heart pounding, hands shaking—are our villain couple finally going to hate each other to the end?]

The instant our lips met, Nathaniel snapped—one big, warm hand locking behind my head, stealing the breath from my lungs.

My legs went weak, and suddenly something thick and black wrapped around my waist—tight enough to make me gasp. I whimpered, trying to squirm away.

"Sorry, don’t… don’t look…" Nathaniel jerked away, eyes wide, desperately trying to hide the tail that had slipped free.

Before I could even process it, he bolted from the room in a panic.

I sat in stunned silence, heart pounding, staring at the closed door. I caught my reflection in the mirror—robe half-off, hair wild, eyes dazed. What the hell just happened? For a moment, I let myself feel all of it: the confusion, the embarrassment, the raw vulnerability.

In the next room, I heard drawers slamming and the sharp smell of medicine drifted in.

I leaned against the wardrobe, still breathless, and watched the barrage light up:

[Nathaniel, you coward, get back here! I already took my pants off—why are you running?]

[Am I the only one who feels sorry for the second male? Bullied and humiliated since childhood for being an incubus, brings his white moonlight home and she finds him disgusting too—how could he not have self-esteem issues?]

[Female supporting character, my little ancestor, do you have to act so disgusted at his true form right now? He's really about to break!]

No, I’m innocent. I just didn’t want him to squeeze so tight…

It was the kind of awkward you only get when your Tinder date accidentally calls you by their ex’s name. Except this time, it was my maybe-husband, my maybe-not-rut, and the sudden realization that three years of emotional distance couldn’t be erased by one wild, clumsy kiss.

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